Achieving physical sainthood begins with the Iron Shirt technique!

The main hall of the city lord's mansion in the inner city of Xuanni City.

The deacon responsible for guarding the Soul Lamp Pavilion scrambled over the high white jade threshold.

He was running so fast that his boots caught on the threshold, and he fell forward with a thud. His knees slammed heavily against the hard tiles, making a dull thud.

He didn't care about the pain or the scraped skin.

The deacon's hands trembled violently as he handed forward a wooden tray with carved edges.

Center of the tray.

Five pools of grayish-white powder lay scattered there. This powder had long lost the spiritual luster of cultivators, turning into the most lifeless mortal dust.

"Lord! The outer sect squad... is completely destroyed!"

The deacon's voice suddenly cut off, his forehead slammed heavily onto the ground, and he didn't even have the courage to lift his head.

The Lord of Xuanni City was holding a fine celadon teacup, his mind preoccupied with how to completely cover up the mess that had happened in the mud alley during the day.

My gaze swept over the powder in the tray.

The city lord's fat wrist suddenly twitched.

"Snap!"

The teacup slipped from his hand and smashed at his feet, scalding tea mixed with sharp shards of porcelain splashing all over the floor.

The fat on the city lord's face twitched uncontrollably. The life-soul jade tablets of the five outer disciples shattered simultaneously, leaving not a trace of sound transmission. The entire search team sent to the outskirts of Broken Immortal Mountain was wiped out.

The city lord knew this perfectly well.

Once this matter is reported to the Azure Sky Sword Sect, the elders above won't care what happened in the outer city. The blame for the annihilation of the mountain search team will be firmly pinned on him. The ruthless deacons of the Enforcement Hall will skin him alive and throw him into the sect's fiery pit to burn him to ashes.

The city lord was panting heavily, and the names of several deputies flashed through his mind.

We must find a scapegoat of sufficient weight to take the blame immediately.

Before he could even give the order to call for reinforcements...

"boom!"

The two heavy sandalwood doors of the main hall were blasted open by an extremely violent surge of true energy. The two wooden doors crashed against the walls, and wood chips mixed with a huge shockwave flew everywhere in the hall.

Chen Yuanshan, a Foundation Establishment stage retainer in the City Lord's Mansion, strode into the hall with a gloomy face and a chilling aura.

Chen Yuanshan didn't even glance at the kneeling deacon. His gaze fell directly on the plate of powder, and he let out a chilling laugh.

"Lord of the city, you're being foolish."

Chen Yuanshan pressed closer and closer until he reached the bottom of the steps leading to the main seat in the main hall.

"Five Qi Refining stage disciples, died without even a chance to struggle. Do you really think this was something a lowly peasant from an outer city could have accomplished?"

Chen Yuanshan's face was completely consumed by greed, and his voice was extremely low, exuding a sense of madness.

"To be able to silently and instantly kill an entire group of cultivators, it must be that heavily injured old demon hiding deep within Broken Immortal Mountain, clinging to life! Moreover, this old demon must be carrying a peerless treasure of the Blood Demon Sect!"

Chen Yuanshan was completely absorbed in the enormous opportunity he had conjured up. In order to monopolize this non-existent demonic treasure, he completely disregarded the rules of his sect.

The terrifying pressure of the Foundation Establishment stage instantly emanated from his body.

The surrounding air became extremely viscous, locking onto the city lord on the main seat.

"Give me those thirty Xuan Tie Heavy Cavalrymen that are the most valuable assets in the manor."

Chen Yuanshan's voice was extremely forceful, leaving the city lord no room for rebuttal.

"I will personally lead the team into the mountains. Before dawn, bring me your head."

The city lord was so overwhelmed by the pressure of the Foundation Establishment stage that he could hardly breathe. It felt like a thousand-pound boulder was pressing on his chest, and large beads of cold sweat seeped from his forehead. How could he dare to provoke a Foundation Establishment stage retainer who was blinded by greed at this critical juncture?

The heavy cavalry was Xuanni City's last trump card, but now he could only grit his teeth and swallow his pride.

"Guards... bring Chen the military command tally!"

……

The scene shifts back to the outer city.

In that muddy alleyway that reeked of sour smell.

"Bang!"

The guard with a fierce face kicked over the only broken pottery jar left in Old Zhang's yard.

The pottery shards were scattered all over the ground.

"Old man, the spirit money is doubled! Hand it all over now!"

The guard lashed his long whip hard against the half-mud wall, sending dirt flying everywhere.

"If you're short a single penny today, I'll have your bone marrow extracted to pay off the debt!"

Old Zhang shielded his grandson tightly behind him. The little grandson was so frightened that he hid behind his grandfather's tattered clothes, not daring to make a sound.

His back was hunched over, thin and frail, and his wrinkled face was plastered with his usual extremely humble and ingratiating smile.

"Sir, please calm down, this old man will get it right away, right away..."

Old Zhang nodded and bowed repeatedly, his hands trembling as he slowly reached into the tattered cloth bag in his arms.

His feet, clad in tattered straw sandals, inconspicuously shuffled backward half a step in the mud. His mostly withered body slowly leaned against the corner of the courtyard wall.

There leaned against a hoe that was usually used to till the soil.

The guards were getting extremely impatient.

"Slowpokes are courting death!"

The guard raised the long, tanned leather whip, still dripping with the blood of others.

He usually worked in the inner city. In order to save his meager spiritual energy after his shift so that he could indulge in debauchery at the Spring Breeze Pavilion in the inner city, he disdained to circulate the protective true energy in his dantian when collecting rent in places like the mud alley where there were only mortals and ants.

These lowly people from the outer city don't even dare to look directly at an immortal; why waste your true energy on them?

This fatal arrogance tolled his death knell.

The long whip lashed down with a piercing whistling sound.

Old Zhang didn't dodge at all.

He suddenly turned around, completely shielding his grandson in front of him, and used his broad, withered back to withstand the vicious whip.

The tattered thin coat was torn apart on the spot. The flesh burst open, and blood instantly soaked through the coarse cloth.

At the very moment he was being whipped on the back.

Old Zhang's calloused hands suddenly gripped the wooden handle of the hoe in the corner.

There was no flow of true essence from any cultivator.

There weren't any fancy magical spells from the immortal sects.

Old Zhang relied entirely on the strength and power he had developed in his waist and abdomen from digging for food in the soil day after day for the past sixty years.

His withered arms suddenly shot upwards.

"call--"

The hoe, accompanied by a dull whistling sound, swung wildly upwards, tracing an extremely brutal path.

"Snap!"

An extremely dull sound of bones cracking echoed through the courtyard.

A cultivator's physical body, having lost the protection of true essence, is equally vulnerable in the face of a purely blunt weapon.

The heavy, blunt iron back of the hoe, carrying the savage strength of a farmer who had spent a lifetime digging in the soil, precisely and ruthlessly smashed the guard's extremely vulnerable throat and Adam's apple.

The guard's mouth was agape, and he didn't have time to make any defensive move.

"Well……"

A piercing scream mingled with the sound of his completely shattered trachea, blocked deep in his throat by a thick cloud of blood. He couldn't utter a single complete syllable.

A large amount of warm blood flowed down the blackened wooden handle and instantly covered Zhang Laozhang's hands.

Old Zhang's face turned bright red, and he was panting heavily.

He braced himself against the wooden handle of the hoe, his legs suddenly straightening in the mud.

The immense force slammed the tall, muscular guard against the broken earthen wall behind him.

The guard's long whip fell into the puddle. He desperately tried to grab Old Zhang's arm, but his strength was rapidly draining away due to his ruptured trachea.

Old Zhang just kept holding on to him, refusing to let go.

Until the guard's dead fish eyes rolled completely upwards, losing all their luster, and his limbs slumped limply down.

Old Zhang pulled out his hoe.

The guard's heavy body slid down the earthen wall into the muddy water, splashing up a spray of water.

Old Zhang leaned against the courtyard gate, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath of the cold air, which was mixed with the smell of mud.

He lowered his head, staring intently at the corpse of the black-armored dog at his feet.

Those cultivators who are usually aloof and disregard human life at the drop of a hat can still die if their throats are crushed by a farm tool. It turns out that even these people can die if their necks are broken.

He was breathing heavily in his chest.

The black fragment of the Daoist stele that Old Zhang had hidden in his arms slipped out through the tears in his clothes caused by the whip.

"Clatter."

The black stone, stained with dried blood, fell into the pool of blood next to the corpse.

In that very instant.

The rough texture of the rock fragments gleamed with an extremely faint sheen. The pool of pungent, thick blood that had accumulated nearby was being frantically absorbed by this black stone.

In just a few breaths.

The remaining blood on the ground was completely drained. The extremely strong smell of blood in the air was also completely blocked, and not a trace of the smell escaped.

From the muddy main alley outside the courtyard, the extremely impatient voices of the other guards could be heard.

"Li Mazi! What are you dawdling about when you're collecting rent? Get out here now!"

Old Zhang bent down, picked up the blood-soaked pebble, and stuffed it back into his pocket.

He raised his head. The timidity in his old eyes vanished without a trace, replaced by an extremely cold and ruthless fierceness like that of a lone wolf.

The old man stretched out his blood-stained hands, grabbed the guard's black iron boots, and forcefully dragged the heavy corpse toward the dark cellar in the backyard.

The dark clouds overhead pressed down even lower.